Primary Colors
by the hotpocket hunter
Summary: Red ribbons are said to bind soul-mates together. When the effects of Fate bear down on we mortals, who can explain the inexplicable? (Alternatively, Misaki meets his match at last.)
1. Chapter 1

Primary Colors

Chapter 1

They are drawn to each other immediately. Misaki separates from the group of HOMRA members with a muttered excuse, and Hibiki just wanders away from her classmates.

They meet on a poor, dirty street, lock eyes, and sit down beside each other, leaning against a weathered brick wall.

Breathlessly, they introduce themselves.

"I'm Hibiki."

"My name's Misaki.

They stop then, still enraptured by the other, and burst out laughing.

"We should trade names, eh?" Misaki chuckles.

Hibiki's laughter is like small bells, and she nods in agreement. "I'll call you Misaki-chan, then, and no one will tease me for seeing a boy."

"Then I guess I'll have to say Hibiki-san, and no one will make jokes about me sneaking off to see a girl. I can barely talk to most of them," he adds, laughing.

Their eyes meet, hazel and violet, for a long moment, before Hibiki pulls Misaki's beanie off. She sets it on her knee carefully, and lowers him to rest his head in her lap. Slender, porcelain fingers thread through his hair. "What's you favorite color?"she asks.

"Violet," Misaki blurts immediately. A light dusting of pink marks his cheeks as he realizes what he's just said, but Hibiki only smiles at him and rubs her thumb across his cheekbone. "I like chestnut," she teases, tugging one lock. For emphasis.

He returns her smile, a bit timidly, and she pulls him closer.

They spend the afternoon that way, Misaki's head resting in her lap as he dozes. Hibiki plays with his hair and massages his scalp, and subconsciously moves her hands to rub at his temples, easing away the headache he'd never told her he had.

The afternoon sun is warm, but the wind chilly. It doesn't bother Misaki- he's too low for it to really reach him.

Hibiki shivers a little in her light subdress, and finds herself in Misaki's red hoody.

There's a tender silence between them as they bask in each other's presence, long into the afternoon. They only stir as voices at last reach them.

"Hibiki-chan!" calls one girl worriedly.

"Hibiki-san~" a boy's voice rang out next.

"That's my class, " Hibiki explains, tracing the contours of his face. "I was on a field-trip. I have to go, now."

Misaki sighs, but sits up. She returns his sweater and hat, and they stand together.

"Hey," Misaki starts. "I live in the shady part of town- I don't want you walking over alone."

Understanding, Hibiki beams and pulls a pen from her pocket. She scribbles her address on his arm. "No one else ever comes over," she says, "-so show up whenever you like."

Misaki leans in, and kisses her square on the mouth. It's a chaste kiss, and short, but Hibiki is over the moon. She hugs him tightly, and skips off to find her classmates, still smiling.

Misaki can't help his own smile as he skateboards home.

Later, Hibiki tells her classmates she'd 'gotten lost'. When they express their apologies for her missing out, she only laughs and tells them, "I found the most interesting thing today, so don't worry."

When pressed, she reveals only, "Misaki-chan is very nice."

By the time someone gets around to calling Misaki to check on him, he's already formulated his answer.

"Nah, I just had something to take care of."

"What?"

"I was meeting Hibiki-san," he explains.

"Hibiki-san," continues Izumo, curious. "Who's that?"

Misaki's smirk curls his lips in an almost wicked way. "Just an old friend."


	2. Chapter 2

Primary Colors

Chapter 2

The second time they meet, Hibiki stumbles home, tears in the corners of her eyes, only to find Misaki in her kitchen.

Cooking.

All the day's teasing and bullying washes away at the sight of him, and she flings herself into his arms. "You're the best!" she sniffles.

Misaki has her back, after all.

"It'll be okay," he promises her.

Meeting three is Misaki passed out on her couch with a sloppy, makeshift bandage wrapped around his head and a trail- shoe, sock, jacket, shoe, hat, sock- all the way from her door to the couch.

She kisses his forehead gently, and goes to get the first aid kit.

It seems fourth time's the charm in their case, and Misaki and Hibiki find themselves at a flea market.

Hibiki is as intimately aware of Misaki as always, and catches his wistful glance at a box of art supplies.

She squeezes his hand.

"I'm an artist, too."

He grins at her, and drags her over to the stand.

They end their date with dango from a street vendor, and ride Misaki's skateboard back to Hibiki's apartment, the box wedged between their feet on the board.

Rendezvous Five, Misaki does tricks on his skateboard for her, trailing red as he leaps from rooftop to rooftop.

She shrieks with delighted laughter, and tightens her hold around his waist.

They lose count quickly, bumping into each other all over town. It's about two months after their first meeting that Hibiki flings herself into his arms.

"I did it! I did it!" she screams, jumping up and down, her blonde ringlets bouncing.

Misaki's face breaks into a crooked grin. "They accepted you?"

"Yes!" she cheers, waving the letter from the gallery. "They said I had a 'unique, mystic style' and that my technique was good, and that I'll get paid, and one lady who was a critic said she couldn't wait to see what else I some up with!" She gasps for breath after the tirade of information, and twines her arms around his neck.

"That's great," Misaki agrees, grinning at her. "You deserve it.

She kisses him fiercely, before subsiding in a fit of giggles. "I never thought I'd make it," she admits, pulling him closer. "Thanks you so much, for everything."

The second kiss is slow and tender, but full of happiness.

It's a week before she gets her next idea.

"I don't know," mumbles Misaki, fiddling with the edge of his shirt. "I'm not very good..."

"For me?" Hibiki asks, grabbing his hands.

He swallows hard. "For you," he agrees.

She smiles. "Now you need a name!"

The next day is spent entirely in the tiny art studio, converted from her second bedroom, as Hibiki digs through stacks of his sketchbooks.

"Ooh!" she squeals, scooping up a charcoal sketch of some skyscrapers, no doubt inspired by his tendency to jump off of them.

It's an aerial shot, slightly titled to give it a more interesting feel, and sharp, smoky angles make it look like the city is reaching up to devour the viewer.

The second she picks up is a smirk, a cigarette, and curling smoke in the night sky. This one's in color, but the smirking mouth lends it a sort of mystery.

The third is a painting, done in warm shades of gold, brown, and red.

The HOMRA bar is an impressive piece of architecture, and the warm oil paints give it a welcoming, nostalgic feel.

The last piece she picks is dark and edgy. Completely blacked out in places, it's the inside of a club

Mocking grins, lusty gazes, drugs, and alcohol loom out of the darkness. A switchblade gleams, a wad of yen changes hands, and a bottle smashes to the round.

"They'll like this," she mutters.

Misaki lets her pick and choose, to nervous to speak.


	3. Chapter 3

Primary Colors

Chapter 3

"In other news, up and coming artist Hibiki Chizora and her silent partner, Shinoringo, are the stars of Japan's art world right now. Now, Echo of a Blood Sky is in fact her real name, but Shinoringo's identity is a mystery. Written in the run together form of 'Death Apple', it's thought to be a reference to the western tale of Snow White, in which the protagonist eats a poisoned apple and dies. When the apples is dislodged from her throat, she returns to life. Interestingly enough, loss of innocence is a popular theme of Shinoringo's work. Many works are, at a fast glance, innocuous enough. A clear look reveals darker images. In their combined work, Castle of Eyes, monsters and faces are worked into the stones of the fairy tale castle's corridors. Demons lurk in the shadows, and barely visible ghosts trail after the eerie occupants. Eerie because, after a close look, you can see their fangs and red eyes. Chizora's work is the lighter end of the spectrum, with picturesque cottages, lovely fairies, and magical landscapes. Both artist show strong Western themes, but tend to work Japanese deities in as well. In one ten foot epic, the Sun god Amaterasu dances in her cave. In another, Yatagarasu leads an Emperor, but not Jimmu. Clad in red, it seems to be some sort of symbolism..."

Misaki hides his smile as the couple of members in the bar watch the news report, unaware that the artist himself is playing video games on the floor next to them.


	4. Chapter 4

Primary Colors

Chapter 4

"Why don't you move in?" Hibiki suggests suddenly.

Misaki shifts sleepily on the couch beside her. "Wan' me to?" he mumbles.

"Of course!" she laughs, snuggling up to him.

"Mmkay."

She smiles, mission accomplished.

Tired Misaki will agree to anything.

Walking into Yata's home for the first time, her eyes are wide and curious.

"Technically," Yata admits. "I'm a squatter. But no one seems to care, so I get by."

Hibiki squeezes his hand, sensing the self-depreciating part of himself rising again.

He gathers himself. "Um, there's not that much, since I don't spend much time here. Most of my stuff is at your place already, or in the bar," he mutters.

Hibiki pulls her hand from his to disappear into the bedroom.

Misaki hears a squeal of delight, and walks in to find her curled up in his blankets.

He can't help the snicker that follows.

Hibiki's head pops up, and she pouts. "It's not my fault! It's warm, fuzzy-fleecy-flannel goodness that smells like you!" She goes pink as she realizes the end of her comment, and looks away, but Misaki is kissing her before she can say anything.

It's warm and excited, and she lets out a slightly giddy laugh as they part for air.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," he murmurs, eyes over-bright. "I hope you know that." He cups her cheek in his hand as she meets his gaze.

Hibiki's expression melts into a smile of adoration. "And you're the sweetest, most selfless person I've ever met."

As the seriousness fades, she jokes, "And sexy, too!"

Misaki goes totally pink before joining her in laughter.

It's a long time before they drag his stuff to the borrowed truck and head home.


	5. Chapter 5

Primary Colors

Chapter 5

Misakis sneezes pitifully, a shiver working down his spine as he stumbles inside. His clothes are soaked through, and it seems to him as if the chill had gone straight to his bones.

He kicks off his shoes, but has to place one cold, wet hand against the wall to keep from falling over as the room sways.

He's vaguely aware of Hibiki's worried chatter, and responds as best he can, but he still stumbles as she pulls him into the bathroom.

He shakes violently as his drenched clothing is peeled from his skin, and end up sprawled in the bottom of the tub, the shower running warm water over his back.

Hibiki joins him after a minute, propping him up to lean against her shoulder under the spray.

Gentle hands rub up and down his arms, trying to get the blood flowing. His lips are almost blue, and it frightens her.

She moves carefully, managing to get Misaki directly under the spray and turn the temperature up a bit at a time.

She can still feel the chill in his skin as she finally turns off the shower for fear of running cold water, and dries him off, getting a little more lucid behavior from him. She helps him slide into some pajamas(boxers and an oversized t-shirt), and tucks him under the covers of their shared bed. She dries herself and slips on a nightgown quickly, before worming under the blankets to snuggle up beside him.

Her heart breaks a little at the little whimper of relief he makes as she presses against him; unable to summon the energy for actual words.

In the morning, Hibiki absently gropes about for the shrieking phone. "...Hello?"

"You aren't Yata," observes the voice on the other end of the phone.

Her eyes widen as she glances at the phone, and she's suddenly glad for the huskiness sleep has given her voice. "No, I'm not. I'm Hibiki. He came in late tonight, and he's still asleep."

"Oh, he made it okay then?" the voice continues, sounding relieved.

Hibiki reaches over to press the back of her hand to his forehead, grimacing at the heat. "Well, he was soaked through when he got here, and he's got a fever now. I don't have work today, so I can stay and watch him."

She conveniently 'forgets' about the school they both ought to attend.

"Yata's in his last year still; do you have their number, or would you like me to call him in for you?"

Her brow furrows. "Ah, call him in for me, will you? I probably have the number, but my flat's a mess."

They make small talk for a few moments before hanging up. Kusanagi, on his end, sets the phone down slowly. "I think Yata-chan's living with this 'Hibiki-san'," he observes shrewdly.

Kamamoto shrugs. "Eh, anything's better than his last place."

"What's wrong with where he lived before?" asks Totsuka, popping up over the back of the couch to interrupt.

He scowls. "He was squatting in an old apartment. It's a pretty bad part of town. He's only got power once in a while, and the water's not the kind you want to drink, when it works. I know he can take care of himself, but..." Kamamoto shrugs helplessly.

"Why didn't he ever say anything?" asks Totsuka, looking decidedly unhappily. "He could have stayed in one of the upstairs rooms."

"Yata's proud," Eric mutters, tugging at his sleeves. "He'd never ask for something like that."

Kusanagi adjusts his shades, lips pressed together in a fine line. "Geez," he sighs. "That kid... I worry about him. Hibiki lets the phone drop back onto the floor beside the bed, and slides from under the covers. She pouts as she realizes she was has nothing in the cupboards. Yanking on some decent clothes, she kisses Misaki's forehead. "Hey babe, I'm going to the market, okay?" Misaki mumbles an unintelligible but presumably positive answer, and she grabs a handful of bills from the jar on the kitchen counter before taking off. Hibiki yawns, stuck in line at the register. "Rough night?" asks one of the guys in line sympathetically. "Yeah, my roommate's sick," she answers, giving the bottle a little waggle for emphasis. As it becomes her turn at the register, she never notices the man's thoughtful frown.


	6. Chapter 6

Primary Colors

Chapter 6

Hibiki curls up with Misaki again as soon as she gets some water and medicine into him, snuggling closer to her shivering- boyfriend?

They've never discussed it- she's not entirely certain what they are.

But she loves Misaki, and she knows he loves her, and does anything else really matter?

Pushing the serious thoughts aside, she buries her face in Misaki's collarbone. She could definitely use a nap.

It's two in the afternoon when she's jolted from her sleep by a loud pounding on the apartment door.

Rolling out of bed and staggering to the door, she pushes it open, hand closing around the phone she keeps on the counter just in case.

A thin, very gray man stands at the door, dressed in a suit as drab a color as his skin, eyes, and hair all seem to be, and malicious grin on his face. "Oh, I've got him now," he murmurs.

"Can I help you?" she asks nervously, leaning against the counter and keeping the door between them like a barrier.

"Hello, Miss. I'm the truant officer for Ashinaka High School," he informs her smoothly. "This is the address on file for Yata Misaki, correct?"

Hibiki nodded slowly, grip on the phone tightening. "Yes, it is."

"Could I speak with him?" A dark gleam appears in his eyes, making her stomach drop.

"No. He's asleep. And since when do truant officers make house calls to sick students?" she continued, eyes narrowing a bit.

"Miss," he sneered condescendingly. "I'm well aware that Yata-san is 'ditching' as you little hooligans like to call it these days."

Hibiki's expression darkened, as the man talked down to her. "He's sick. And really, it's one of your business anyway!"

"Don't test me," the man snarled. "I will have that little delinquent expelled!"

Hibiki steps back, attempting to shut the door, but the man shoves his foot into the gap.

"Go away!" she snaps. "I told you already, he was out in the rain and got sick!"

"I know better than that!" the man chuckles, grabbing her arm.

Hibiki froze.

"You ave five seconds to get your hands off me before I call the police."

Her irritation at being woken combined with the disgust for the man in front of her and even a slight tinge of fear of the wild look in his eyes made her thumb the dial button, punching in numbers and thanking every god she knows for her foresight in muting the buttons.

He laughs at her.

Langhs.

"Little girl, I know you think you're doing your boyfriend a favor, but the truth will come out."

Roughly, he yanks her forwards, trying to force her from the doorway.

Hibiki punched talk and then the speaker-phone buttons in that instant, bracing herself in the doorway with her hips wedged between the door and the counter. "Hello!" she gasps, feeling a little panicky. "There's a man trying to break into my apartme- Ow!" she yelps and he jerks at her wrist, trying to grab at the phone.

"Help!" she shouts at the phone, and rattles off the address hurriedly. "Ouch- oh, he's trying to force me, ow, outside!" she babbles quickly. I've got the chain on, but he's got his foot in the door-frame. Hurry!:

As the dispatcher reassures her, promising that help is on the way, makes sure to play up the fear. "Let me go!" she pleads, dropping the phone to the floor.

The device is nearly indestructible, but a decent noise as it hits the ground.

"Miss, are you there?" the women shouts.

"Yes!" she calls back, starting to feel real fear creeping up her spine as the man's face twists.

"Turn that off!" he snarled, unknowingly incriminating himself.

"No! Go away! The police are coming!:

The woman hadn't been kidding about the officers speed. The two she'd called in appeared at the end of the hall only minutes later, just in time to see the man yank Hibiki hard enough to clunk her head against he door frame.

"He's in there!: the man snarls again.

Hibiki pulls hard on her arm, trying to get away. "Misaki!" she shrieks. "Misaki!"

The police spot an extra arm through the crack of the door, grappling to force the man's fingers off the girl's arm, and they quickly drag him away, cuffing him and stuffing him in the back of their squad car.

A third, female officer rushes up the stairs to the apartment door. She talks softly and soothingly. 'Dear, would you open the door so I can check on you? Pretty please"

Sniffling, Hibiki nods. "'Saki, let her in," she croaks, cradlingher arm to her chest.

The chain clicks free as Misaki carefully helps her up.

They move to the couch, and the officer has ample time to see the flushed ceeks, cracked lips, and shaking legs as Misaki crumples to the cushions, breathing hard through his mouth.

The officer closes the door behind herself and sits down, opposite them, in the armchair.

"Sweetie, can you tell me what happened?"

Misaki's chest heaves with each rattling breath, and Hibiki pulls him to rest in a position against her side that is more like sitting up, to keep his breathing easy. She appreciates that this situation actually looks like what it is, before breaking into her tale. "He- he said he was a truant officer," she starts, rubbing at her eyes with her uninjured arm. "One of Misaki's friends called him in sick, I know he did, I asked him to because Misaki was asleep and I couldn't find the school's number," she explains quickly. "I don't know why he came here!" She takes a shuddering breath.

"What happened next?" the woman asked, voice gentle.

"When- when I answered the door, he was really rude-"

"How so?"

"He called me a little girl, and said I was a liar, and that he knew Misaki wasn't sick, and that he knew I thought I was protecting my boyfriend-"

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"I don't know!" she sniffled, looking overwrought. "He's- he's my best friend, and I – I-"

"That's alright sweetie," the woman cuts her off, face understanding. "I get it."

Misaki is oblivious, trying to breath past the weight in his chest, and Hibiki heaves him up a little further, patting him on the back.

"He grabbed my arm, and tried to come in, and starting acting really scary, so I tried to shut the door on him. He blocked it with his foot, and pulled on my arm, and tried to force his way in!"

Misaki turns her wrist in his grasp, hissing under his breath at the darkening bruise. "This is my fault," he mumbles, looking down.

"Do you skip school often?" inquires the offiger.

Misaki nods. "Yeah," he rasps.

"That's not your fault though!" Hibiki protests. Turning to the officer, she explains quickly. "I make him stay here sometimes. 'Saki gets stressed easy, then he gets sick, and every time he gets sick it goes straight to his chest and I have to make sure he doesn't end up with pneumonia."

"Ah," the woman winces, understanding. "I see. You're absent often, so he believed you a truant.

A little bit of triumph flutters in Hibiki's heart. If he treated her so poorly, how must he treat Misaki?

"I think that's enough for my report," the woman sighs, smiling reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'll put a good word in for two sweethearts like you." She winks, and both of them turn pink.

"I'll see myself out, and I hope you feel better soon!" she calls over her shoulder as she leaves, flashing them a grin.

Misaki slumps against Hibiki's side. "You okay?" he mumbles.

"I'm fine," she promises. "Let's get you back to bed, okay?"


	7. Chapter 7

24 hours of sick Misaki, followed by an additional 48 of rather adorable slight-fever Misaki that whines and clings are concluded by an upward shift in health, and soon Misaki is attending school again (just in time for the yearly finals.)

He graduates (somehow) and they celebrate with a three-day movie marathon on Misaki's laptop, christened Benihime. "It means Red Princess," Misaki explains, embarrassed. "She's red, and pretty awesome," he bragged. "No one can beat me in a hacker's duel."

Whatever the case, they would leave the apartment for another three days, watching badly dubbed American Kung Fu movies and eating nothing but popcorn and candy, snuggling on the couch without care for the outside world. (And then, only for paint and instant ramen.)

Misaki is poking through a case of shimmer paints, endlessly picky.

The basket is half filled with ramen cups, and Hbiki is across the aisle to his left, contemplating brush sizes.

As Misaki finishes picking two tiny jars of gold and silver, respectively, and a shimmer sea shell pink he knows Hibiki will adore, he turns and bumps into someone. Long-fingered hands catch him before he falls, and steady him.

"Sorry," he mutters.

"Wata-chan?"

Misaki's head jerks up. "Kusanagi-san?"

Hibiki moves closer, pretending to browse as she listens in.

"What are you doing here?"

"I think I should be asking you that, Misaki," he chuckles, pointing to the basket. "Paint and ramen? Don't tell me your an artist."

Misaki's cheeks dust pink as he looks away, flustered.

"Have I seen any of your works before?" Kusanagi teases goodnaturedly.

"...Maybe," Misaki agrees pointedly, now obviously sulking.

Hazel eyes meet violet for the breifest of seconds, and she steps forward to introduce herself. "Chizora Hibiki, a pleasure to meet you in person at last, Kusanagi-san."

Misaki can't stifle his laughter at Kusanagi's flabbergasted expression.

"Well then," he finally manages, eying Hibiki's bright smile like some kind of deadly snake. "I guess you're Shinoringo?"

Misaki nods. "Keep it quiet, yeah? Last thing I need is the media all over my ass."

Kusanagi smiles. "I'll keep my mouth shut."

"Thanks."

"How did you two meet, eh?" he asks.

Both shrug.

"I just sort of felt drawn in her direction," Misaki mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Hibiki nods. "I felt the same thing. I followed the pull, and found Misaki."

"That's odd," Kusanagi murmurs. He doesn't miss the way she slips her hand into Misaki's orthe immediate reciprocating squeeze.

Amusement glitters in his eyes. "Well, I'll leave you to your date, then!"

Misaki pinks, but doesn't deny it, and Kusanagi can't hold back the laugh as he heads off, waving over his shoulder.

Hibiki, unable to help herself, leans in and kisses Misaki's cheek. "You're so cute," she laughs.

Misaki complains about this... 'cute', gesturing wildly with his free hand as he protests.

They walk off, hand in hand.


	8. Chapter 8

Primary Colors

Chapter 8

Misaki is standing on a precariously balanced pile of boxes, working jagged black feathers in the wing of what is quite possibly the largest charcoal sketch of a crow on earth. The chunk of charcoal in his hand isn't artist's charcoal, just a chunk from the fireplace, and he's so absorbed in his work he doesn't hear the door open.

"Hello?" someone calls.

Misaki doesn't hear that either.

He only notices when the door to the studio opens and someone walks in. Turning on one tow, he points his blankened finger at the guy in the doorway. "Who the hell're you?" he demands bluntly.

The guy looks stunned. "Y-you're Shinoringo!"

Misakis scowls. "You'll keep your mouth shut if you know what's good for you."

The man doesn't seem to register the threat, beginning to babble onward about an interview before Misaki levels him with a glare. "No," he grinds out. "I'm not interested in an interview."

He's incredibly relieved when Hibiki kicks the man out and threatens to sue for trespassing, invasion of privacy, and a bunch of other things Misaki is no longer paying attention to.

These feather won't draw themselves.

Despite the threat, a description of Shinoringo is leaked to the paper the next day. "Young, with hazel eyes and red-brown hair. Male. Lives with Chizora."

Reporters flutter around the apartment regularly, prompting Misaki to simply not leave the flat.

Everyone wants to meet the mysterious Shinoringo.

Eventually, the two artists cut them a deal.

Shinoringo will attend an upcoming gallery party, and the reporters will 'stay the hell away from us."

A quickly complied and looming lawsuit for all involved enforces compliance.

They don't dress up.

Actually, as they look at each other, they laugh.

Misaki's wearing the same outfit as when they first met, cap jammed on his head, board under his arm. The only addition is the chibi skull hair clip pinning his bangs out of the way.

Hibiki's wearing the ruffly white sundress from that same afternoon, an identical clip in reversed colors (white on black rather than black on white) in her hair. It pulls one side of her hair out of her face, adding to the tumbling effect of her doll-like curls.

Misaki grabs her hand, twining their fingers together at the door of the apartment.

"Nervous?" breathes Hibiki, leaning into him.

"Yeah," Misaki grimaces.

Hibiki pulls him down by the front of his hoodie and kisses him. "It'll be fine," she whispers soothingly.

Heaving a shuddering breath, Misaki forcibly relaxes. "Okay. Let's go.

"Yata's on TV!" snaps Kusanagi, turning up the volume.

"-mous artist Chizora Hibiki has arrived at the gallery tonight with an escort, none other than the mysterious Shinoringo!" the reporter announces as the camera zooms in on Yata and the girl, presumably Chizora.

"Chizora's darker half has finally made an appearance! The artist of such works as Nightlife, Aerial, and Smirk-" The video changes, showing each work as its name is called, earning admiring murmurs. "-co-artist of Castle of Eyes, Shinoringo!"

Cameras flash as Misaki and Hibiki head towards their section of the show to play host.

The majority of HOMRA is watching slack-jawed as they stop beside a massive painting, the epic of Yatagarasu and the Red King.

Kusanagai snorts. "Not hard to see where that one came from. Smirk is pretty familiar too."

Mikoto eyes him silently, not even blinking at the accusation.

It was both better and worse than he had imagine it, Misaki mused, letting Hibiki forward the conversation. He chipped in when directly addressed, but mostly stayed quiet, finding his calm in her presence.

Eventually, though, they were separated, and as the barrage of questions assaulted him, his shoulders hunched defensively.

Someone tapped his shoulder, and he jumped. A younger girl, perhaps fifteen or so, with two tiny children clinging to the skirt of her dress smiled at him. Sliding her arm through his, she continued. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'll have to borrow Shinoringo-dono for a moment," she apologized, fording the crowd to lead them to an emptier spot.

She released them as soon as they were out of sight of the others, and he heaved a sigh of relief. "Thanks," he mumbled, a little shaken.

"No problem," she laughed. "I know how scared I was when I first started coming to these events. And I really did need to borrow you."

He blinked, confused, as she ushered a little girl out in front of her.

Big blue eyes looked up at him, and he felt his expression soften.

"H-hello," she stuttered. "I-I'm Kimiko, and I-I- Ireallylikeyourwork!" she rushed out, turning bright red even as she bowed.

Yata grinned. "Which one's your favorite?"

The picture that appeared in the paper was Misaki, crouched low as he talked to the 6-year-old girl.


End file.
